A True Lady of Asgard
by JDPhoenix
Summary: It's not uncommon for Jane to fall asleep working when she's chasing a new theory or hunting down evidence but the middle of a battle for the future of Asgard is not the time.


Disclaimer: I don't own Jane or Thor or any other part of the MCU.

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><p>"His short and simple definition of a lady or a gentleman is someone who always tries to make sure the people around him or her are as comfortable as possible."<br>- _Blast from the Past_

For a moment Jane thinks she's back in the desert and has fallen asleep under the open sky. Then she remembers that Puente Antiguo was years ago and notices that the stars overhead are gold instead of white. They're not stars at all but the ceiling of the healing house, meant to soothe the injured who wake in the night.

"You fell asleep."

She turns her head to find a pair of bright eyes shining at her in the dark. It takes a moment for her vision to adjust to the muted greys and she recognizes Fandral.

"I didn't mean to," she says and sits up. Her body protests. She hasn't slept enough, hasn't eaten in longer than she can remember. But there's work to do and she, unlike so many others, is uninjured.

"It's _fine_," Fandral says, a bit of his usual laugh in his voice. How he can manage it, Jane has no idea; he nearly lost his leg in the fight. "No one expects you to work yourself to death."

But they expect him and all the rest to die protecting her and everyone else in the city. She shakes off his reassurances and pushes herself to stand, to return to work. How can she have let herself stop, even for a moment, when people were still suffering?

Fandral lunges, best as he can with his leg immobilized, and catches her arm. "Lady."

It's on the tip of Jane's tongue to correct him. She's told all of Thor's friends a thousand times that she's not anyone's "lady," she's just Jane, but the best she can get is a respectful "doctor" when they're on Earth.

"You have done more than any expected of you. Even Eir was impressed and insisted you be allowed to sleep without disturbance once she found you."

Jane groans softly. She can't even remember what she was _doing_ before she conked out. It's not uncommon for her to fall asleep working when she's chasing a new theory or hunting down evidence for one (and Darcy's never gonna let her forget that time she found her sleeping standing up) but the middle of a battle for the future of Asgard is _not the time_.

"I should go find her and apologize," Jane says. She stands, forcing Fandral to let her go or fall from his bed. She helps him rearrange himself, the whole time ignoring the look of consternation on his face.

"Much as I enjoy the attentions of a lovely woman," he says - and it's a relief to hear him sounding so much like his normal self - "there's no true joy in it when the lady is taken. And I am not an infant," he adds a little sharply when she starts tucking him in.

"If you hate being babied so much, maybe you'll be more careful next time."

He scowls at her as she leaves but she's barely reached the end of his bed before she hears a soft, "M'lady."

She rolls her eyes and hurries for the doors. She's still wearing the special slippers all healers wear to keep their footsteps silent, leaving only her breathing and the gentle shift of her gown. The door opens at the lightest touch, which she's been told is an enchantment meant to keep the patients from overexerting themselves. She's grateful for it herself. She doesn't have the Aesir's strength and has more than once had to ask a guard to open one of the palace's massive doors for her.

After a short hallway, meant to keep light pollution from the recovery room, Jane finds herself back in the heart of the action. At least, the action she's up for.

She heads for the nearest bed and falls into the now familiar habit of assisting the healer working there. She can't do much with no magic of her own, but she's a quick study and knows the names of most of the tools they use; she's more than capable of fetching and carrying. A few times she's been good for nothing but holding a hand or offering words of comfort; once she even distracted a man during an operation with stories of Earth. (She will never again tell Darcy to shut up about her celebrity gossip.)

Jane's only at it a few minutes when Eir appears at her elbow with a sharp look and whisks her off.

"I'm sorry," Jane says quickly, "I know I shouldn't have fallen asleep, I-"

"Hush," Eir says in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

Jane immediately falls silent, allowing herself to be led. They reach the stairs and she realizes she's not being taken aside for a talking-to, she's being _kicked out_.

"I know I'm not a doctor - not that kind - and I _told _you I wasn't, I never pretended to be - but I can still _help!_"

Eir stops them in the vaulted entryway on the ground floor, pulling Jane around so they're face to face.

"My lady," Eir begins (_of course_), "as you say, you are not a healer. You are not used to the way this work wears on the soul and I would be remiss to allow you to work yourself to true harm simply for the assistance you offer."

Jane resists the urge to wrap her arms around herself. In the thin gown she wears, it's more like admitting to a weakness than protecting herself.

"I can do more," she says around a lump in her throat.

Eir smiles gently and tucks some of Jane's hair behind her ear. "You have done more than enough. Go. Rest."

She nods over Jane's shoulder and the familiar sound of guards taking position echoes through the hall. Eir hurries back to work, several apprentices rushing to her side the moment she's away from Jane.

"M'lady?" one of the guards prods.

"Right." Jane shakes herself. She did the best she could; she has nothing to be ashamed of. "Is it safe to return to the palace?"

One of the guards - Uril, he's one of her regulars - hurries ahead to open the doors for her. "Yes, m'lady. The battle is won, though the war continues to rage on Jotunheim."

"Thank you, Uril," she says with a small smile. Much as she hates the undeserved respect they give her, she knows it gives them a thrill when she returns some of it.

From the corner of her eye she catches a glimpse of Uril's proud look, thrown at the other guard. A moment later she hears the faint sound of metal striking metal, probably the other guard shoving Uril playfully.

A third guard watches the skiff and offers Jane a hand up. She's gotten used to lifting her skirts to climb in and out of the things, but she's always grateful for anything that keeps her from falling flat on her face. (It's never actually happened, but Pepper got her worried thanks to a conversation during their post-Extremis wardrobe rebuilding adventure.)

The skiff lifts off gently, bringing a gust of wind into Jane's face. She doesn't even know how long it's been since the last time she was outside and breathes deeply of the cool air. At first there's no sign of the recent battle except their course, kept close to land instead of the usual breaking out into open air, but then they round the healing house and the city comes into view.

Jane leans toward the edge of the skiff. Even at this distance she can see broken buildings. The eastern bridge looks like it's collapsed completely in one section. Smoke rises in dark tendrils along the skyline.

"There's no danger, right?" she asks.

"None, my lady," the skiff driver is quick to assure her. "The Jotuns have been beaten back."

"Good. Take us the long way around." She ignores the looks the guards exchange the same way she ignores Darcy and Ian's looks when she's throwing ideas around (or the same way Erik ignores her and Darcy's looks, but she'd rather not think about it that way). They follow her orders and that's enough.

They _do_ keep close to land though, never flying too far out over the water or too high, which is fine with her; it gives her a better view. Even if she hadn't recognized Uril, she'd know he was one of her regulars when he produces a stylus and tablet (or the Asgardian equivalent) at her request. She marks down locations and severity of damage as they follow the shoreline.

"How did they get _here_?" she asks as they get further and further from the bridges. Even with their stolen ships, it would make more sense to go straight for the heart of the city than pick at its edge.

"They attacked from the sea, m'lady, abandoning their ships for icebergs to ride ashore. Took us by surprise at our most vulnerable spots."

Jane knows. She spent her first hours in the healing house with the injured children and was almost relieved to be called away to the warriors.

"There's nothing here," she says, pointing off the port side. Everything else for over a hundred meters on either side of the spot is frozen or crushed but this one little inlet - and the building covering it - is untouched.

Ulir follows the direction of her hand. "A sea wall," he says after a moment. "You can see the generators, there and there. It guards the home beyond from high tide. It must have held the Jotuns off well enough."

"Shouldn't be too hard to replicate on a large scale," Jane murmurs to herself, making a note of the location to ask the owner about it.

They continue their survey of the damage, stopping occasionally so Jane can talk to crews already working on clean up. She has a horrible habit of wandering, which she knows is a pain for her guards, and after she disappears for ten minutes to reunite a lost child with his mother, she decides to let them take her home. The driver wastes no time turning the skiff straight for the palace, flying right over downtown in his hurry.

The guards are obviously relieved to release her to the safety of the palace and she enters hastily so that they can go about their duties. Inside, the hallways are unusually deserted. It's almost impossible to go anywhere without finding a guard at attention on a normal day, but now…

She wonders how many of them she saw in the healing house and didn't even recognize.

"Lady Jane!" Sif's surprised cry pulls her out of her macabre thoughts.

Jane hurries down the hall to meet her but Sif is faster, crossing twice the distance in the same time.

"You're here," Jane says, which is probably the dumbest thing she's ever said. "I mean, you're not on Jotunheim. I thought-"

"The battle still rages." Sif's frown twists even deeper. "Thor has insisted I remain here as an adviser rather than hunt down Loki."

Jane can't help but worry over that. Sif is one of Asgard's best and she's known Loki since they were children. If anyone can catch him, she should be able to. But then she's known Loki _since they were children_. Jane can't imagine having to go up against someone she trusted that much, thought she knew that well.

"Thor must have his reasons," she says.

"Yes. His idiot, bullheaded-" Sif suddenly holds herself at attention. "I am sorry, my lady. I should not speak of his majesty so."

_ His majesty_. No one's said it quite that way yet. A strange emptiness curls through Jane, almost like those moments right after being stripped of the Aether. She knows Thor will one day be king, no matter what he says about giving up his claim. He's the only heir left and Odin's not exactly a young man- god- whatever. But the thing about _one day_ is that it's a long way off, especially when your boyfriend is immortal. It's always been there, Jane just never thought she'd have to deal with it.

"We don't know Odin's dead," she says, her voice a bit hollow.

"No," Sif agrees, "we do not. But Asgard needs her king and for the moment Thor is the only one she has."

Jane nods heavily, trying to fill the emptiness with reminders that this was always the way things were going to be, whether she wanted to face it or not. (It doesn't work very well.)

"You said you're here as an adviser?" she asks, Sif's earlier words finally catching up with her.

Sif never smiles at Jane, not the way she smiles at the Warriors Three or Thor or really anyone else in the universe, but over time Jane's worn her down to a slight upward curve of the lips. It's better than nothing.

It's also what Jane gets now in answer to her question. "He is in the throne room," Sif says.

Jane shoots off a quick thanks and runs down the hall. It's not exactly dignified, her skidding down the halls like she's in some cheesy 80s movie, but Jane's never pretended to be the epitome of dignity. (And it's not like there's anyone to see her.)

Once at the throne room, she pauses just inside the open doorway, shocked by the disparity from the last time she was here only days earlier. Then the throne room was full to bursting with nobles and warriors and visiting dignitaries, all come to hear Odin's announcement. No one expected the Warriors Three to expose Odin as Loki in disguise or for him to summon up an army of Jotuns to attack Asgard. It was chaos afterward, people rushing for the doors or rushing for the throne to attack.

But now the hall is empty and still somehow just as imposing as it was when filled with throngs of panicking people. Jane's thankful she forgot to change out of her slippers before leaving the healing house since they keep her hurried steps from echoing in the silence as she makes her way down the long runway.

Mjolnir sits on the steps leading to the throne, as if Thor couldn't bear to carry it all the way up to his father's place. He stands at the bottom, listening to several men speaking at once.

They're all too well-dressed for Asgard in time of war and, as Jane nears, she sees only one is actually Aesir. The others are foreign ambassadors and dignitaries she's seen at feasts. None of them seem happy but whatever Thor says to them is enough to get them to leave peacefully. One or two even smile at her as they pass her by, which she takes as a good sign. (The Aesir among them scowls.)

She stops a few steps from the end of the runway. Thor stands with his back to her, deep in thought. When the heavy door closes behind the dignitaries, he lifts his head towards the throne. Even from behind, Jane can see how it weighs on him.

"You don't have to take it," she says. "Not yet, at least."

He whirls, one hand half-open for Mjolnir before he realizes it's only her. "Jane," he says, some of the tension sliding off his shoulders with the single word. "I did not hear you enter."

She lifts her skirts so he can see the slippers. "Healing house," she supplies.

"So I was told." He eases to a seat on the steps and pats the spot beside him in invitation. When she's settled, he draws her to him, resting her in the warmth of his side. "Eir sent word you were there."

"I'll bet she did." The bitter words are out before Jane can stop them. Whatever Thor thinks of them, he doesn't let on, only holds her in silence and lets her choose where the conversation goes next. She laces her fingers through his and brings his knuckles up to kiss. "You aren't on Jotunheim because you have to be king, don't you?"

He holds her tighter, resting his chin on her head. His affirmative hum vibrates down to her toes.

"Then maybe…" She takes a deep breath. "Maybe I should go."

He turns his head to nuzzle hers. "We both should. It's been a long day. Several, in fact."

She twists on the step so she's no longer within his hold, but keeps her grip on his hand, unwilling to let that go.

"I mean _go_ go. Like, back to Earth." She can't look at him, just toys with his hand in her lap while she waits for his answer.

"Jane …" His free hand lifts her chin. "You are afraid?"

He looks so heartbroken that she can't help the "No!" that bursts out. "But … the nobles," she says, thinking of the dignitaries, "and the _people_ and I drive the guards crazy and Eir had to call you to be my designated driver!"

He stares, looking so adorably confused that she almost can't say what needs to be said. Almost. But this is more important than them.

"You don't need a mortal girlfriend hanging around your neck, not when you've got a monarchy to stabilize."

Slowly, so slowly it almost makes Jane want to run from the room (even though it's so far it'd be embarrassing), Thor smiles.

"Eir did not send me word of your presence so I would send someone to fetch you. She worried I might not realize you are quite so like Asgard's last lady and would fret in your absence." He slides closer to her before she can protest. "My mother used to spend days in the healing house after battles. She would use all her skills until she could not keep on her feet and eventually Eir began insisting she leave to rest. She seemed pleasantly surprised to find you the same - if a bit annoyed at having to send you off."

Jane shakes her head, thinking of her impromptu nap, but he continues before she can speak.

"As for the others: Sif complains that the guards fight over who will be trusted with your safety; I cannot receive a single report on the state of the city without hearing either a question as to your well-being or praise for the concern you have shown her citizens; and the nobles who do not like you are only jealous that the people like you so much more than them." He brings her hand to his lips to kiss. "If you truly wish to leave, Jane, you had best say it is out of fear, for if you think to leave that I might better secure my throne, you should know what hold I have on it would be greatly weakened without you by my side."

Jane swallows down the prickly feeling in her throat that threatens to reach her eyes. "You're not, um, you're not just saying that? I thought everyone just kind of put up with me because of you."

"Some do," Thor confesses. "But most adore you as much as I do. Well, not _quite_ as much."

He kisses her knuckles again and she has to bite back a wet laugh.

"One of my advisers even suggested I marry you once this conflict is done - to bolster morale. And to ensure you do not get away. Apparently some people think you will grow bored of me."

She shifts closer to his side and he immediately wraps his arm around her again. "Fat chance. You're the least boring person I know. You're stuck with me."

His hold on her tightens and all at once he stands, tossing her up so he can catch her in his arms. Her heart pounds and she holds a hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath. Thor doesn't help, the way he's staring down at her.

"Does that mean you will make my advisers happy?" he asks with a teasing smile. She almost buys it but she can see the hesitancy in his eyes.

"That better not be a proposal. Did you learn _nothing_ from Tony's epic failure?"

"Pepper said yes," Thor points out. They're moving. When did they start moving? Not down the runway but through one of the smaller exits leading to the heart of the palace. "Besides, it is not a proposal."

"Good." Jane's heart does _not_ sink, not even a little.

"I promised Erik I would ask you properly."

"Erik?" He's asked _Erik?_

Thor doesn't answer, just carries her along to his rooms.

"We are both exhausted," he says as he finally sets her down, "and cannot be expected to make rational decisions. So it is certainly not a proposal." He smiles. "Yet."

"Yet," she echoes, more than a little dumbstruck. He's right. Between Odin's disappearance and the battle and finding out everyone _likes_ her, she is not up for making a life-altering decision. Even, she thinks as she curls up in Thor's arms beneath the sheets, if she's pretty sure she already has.


End file.
